


Make You Mine

by dontleaveportland



Series: Stole You Away [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, F/M, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontleaveportland/pseuds/dontleaveportland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At sixteen years old, Stiles understood that he still had a lot to learn about life, but there were a few things he already knew for certain – one of those things happened to be that it was best to avoid Aiden and Ethan Carver whenever possible, another was that the first day back was too early in the school year to start hating his classmates again (see the former point to avoid the latter one).</p><p>Or how Derek and Stiles began dating before the fic, 'I Belong to You'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Won't

**Author's Note:**

> The concept for this pre-'I Belong to You'-fic has been floating around my head for the last few months, but was further affirmed by other readers of the fic.
> 
> So I decided to see where this goes... Can be read with or without reading 'I Belong to You'.

Stiles Stilinski grimaced as he watched the hulking frames of Thing One and Thing Two fill Beacon Hills High School's main hallway. 

Derek Hale, resident douchewolf, or general miscreant as Stiles's father liked to refer to him, wouldn't be far behind them. 

Stiles turned back toward his locker and attempted to once again hone his ability to become one with the wall. 

At a pretty recent sixteen years old, Stiles understood that he still had a lot to learn about life, but there were a few things he already knew for certain – one of those things happened to be that it was best to avoid Aiden and Ethan Carver whenever possible, another was that the first day back was too early in the school year to start hating his classmates again (see the former point to avoid the latter one). 

The thump of something large crashing to the ground, followed by the obnoxious laughter of both Aiden and Ethan, pulled Stiles's attention back to the hallway. 

*** 

Derek Hale came close to grinning as he fell into step between Aiden and Ethan, approaching Beacon Hills High School. His skin itched with excitement. 

Sure, he had spent almost every day that past summer with the twins, but it felt different back at school – where they were able to act more like their own pack, without interrupting alpha parents. They were their own alphas there. 

"Have you seen Lydia's tits yet?" Aiden asked, nudging Derek with an elbow, "Seem perkier than last year. Summer was good to her." 

"Forget her," Ethan said, "She's never going to give you the time of day. Besides Beacon's summer sexy award goes to Danny. Hands down. Right, Derek?" 

Derek shook his head, but was interrupted from responding by the sound of a large crash to his left. He looked to the ground and found Greenberg, along with everything that had been in his backpack, splayed out on the floor. 

Aiden erupted into laughter, reaching out a hand for a high five with Ethan. 

"Whoops!" Aiden said, still laughing "Sorry, Berger. Didn't see you there." 

The sound of a locker slamming closed pulled Derek's gaze away from Aiden, landing on Stiles Stilinski, the only student giving Lydia Martin a run for highest GPA in… Well, probably life ever. 

Derek didn't really know why, but that kid annoyed the fuck out of him. 

Stiles ignored Aiden as he stepped forward to help Greenberg up off the floor. 

"You all right, Greenberg?" Stiles asked, bending down to help collect the contents of Greenberg's backpack. 

"No hello for us, Stiles?" Aiden called out, hands lifted into the air. 

Aiden's smirk grew as Stiles continued to ignore them. Derek remembered why Stiles bothered him so much now, the kid never gave any of them the time of day. Like they were dirt or something. 

Once Greenberg was finally righted on his feet, backpack over his shoulder, and Stiles seemed to be stepping away, Aiden called out again. 

"Summer did you well, Stilinski!" Aiden said, "I'm both loving and hating the view as you walk away!" 

Derek felt a ball begin to well in his stomach that he usually associated with anger, but that didn't really make sense there in that moment. There was no way he was angry _for_ Stiles. Probably at him – for fucking ignoring them like always. 

Who the fuck did he think he was anyways? 

"Shut up, Aiden," Ethan said, "Knock it off." 

"Aww," Aiden cooed, moving in front of Derek to sling an arm around Ethan, "Afraid your big brother is going to ruin your chances with your new boyfriend? What about Danny, huh?" 

"Danny's old news," Ethan said, smirk growing as he pulled away and put Derek between him and his brother again, "Lydia told me a couple weeks ago that Stiles has been training for the track team. I laughed then, but the joke's on me. Did you see that ass?" 

"Will you two shut up?" Derek asked, headache growing as that stupid ball seemed to grow with intensity, "Let's just get this fucking day over with. I hate school." 

"Yeesh," Aiden said, hands raised into the air again, "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the alpha bed today." 

"Yeah, Derek," Ethan said, throwing an arm around Derek, "Cheer up, we run this school. Let's go see if we can find a freshmen to introduce into a locker." 

"I forgot about the new freshmen!" Aiden said, face bursting with excitement, "I fucking love this day!" 

Derek thought he loved that day, too, but he wasn't so sure about that anymore. 

*** 

Derek huffed as he fell into the passenger seat of his uncle's car. The only thing worse than that day was being picked up by a family member at the school. It was fucking embarrassing. 

"No need to thank me," Peter said, hands resting on the steering wheel despite the car remaining parked in its spot in front of the school, "I'm just helping you get your little alpha ass home." 

"I want my car back," Derek growled, "Then you wouldn't have to be here, and we'd all be happier." 

"Yeah, well," Peter said, rolling his eyes, "I want that, too, but your mother has decided that this is a teachable moment. So, here we are." 

"Can we just go already?!" Derek asked. 

"Aww, what's the matter, Derry?" Peter said, brow furrowing with mock concern, "Did you have a rough first day back at school?" 

"Fuck off, Peter," Derek said, turning his face away and toward the window, jaw clenched and claws resting at the surface. 

Derek's attention was brought back to Peter as the other man let loose a whistle. 

"Wowza," Peter said, nodding toward Stiles walking in front of the car toward the parking lot, "Stilinski's grown up some since I last saw him." 

"Whatever," Derek said, the confusing ball of anger from that morning returning. 

"You think he likes an older man?" Peter asked, nudging Derek with an elbow. 

"I think his Sheriff father would shoot said older man," Derek muttered. 

"Yeah, but it might be worth it," Peter said, still watching the direction Stiles had walked toward. 

Derek reached over to honk the wheel's horn. 

"Let's go already!" Derek said. 

"Christ!" Peter said, pushing Derek's arm away, "You really are a Grumpy Cat today, aren't you? What the fuck's got your jock twisted, man?" 

"Don't you have a college party or something to get to?" Derek asked, facing his uncle, "I just want to go fucking home already!" 

"All right, fine!" Peter said, "We're leaving, you don't have to be a little bitch about it. And if you must know, I do have a party to be at later tonight, one I'm no longer thinking I should take you to." 

"Good," Derek muttered, crossing his arms over his torso and hunching down as the car lurched forward, "You'd probably just make me DD for your grad student friends anyways." 

"I think you need to get laid, nephew," Peter said, nodding his head. 

Derek definitely hated this day.


	2. Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Stiles's social circle had grown to include more than just Lydia Martin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously trying to get my life together, and the struggle is real. I have another WIP fic to update, and quite a few comments to catch up on – for this fic and others – but I just wanted to say a quick thanks for those taking the time to read, comment on, and subscribe to the early stages of this fic!
> 
> Hope you're enjoying so far!

Derek set the beer bottle in his hand down on one of the Martin's backyard deck chairs. He sighed as he leaned against the deck's railing, letting the slight chill of the late September air and soft moonlight settle over him.

A little over a month since the first day of school had passed, and Derek's junior year was off to a horrible start. Currently, he stood watching through the kitchen window the suspected reason for that horrible start: Stiles Stilinski.

A fucking sophomore was ruining Derek's high school career in a matter of weeks.

Stiles's most recent offense against him actually involved a regrettable experience assisting Uncle Peter that past summer, wherein Derek was pulled over the next county over for a number of driving violations, including a suspected DUI as a minor. Fortunately, the alcohol served at the pre-semester college party was as shitty as the party itself – no wolfsbane meant no proof.

Derek isn't quite sure how Sheriff Stilinski pulled it off, but the man took an interest in Derek's case and somehow got Derek off with a few Do-Better-Promises. One of those Do-Better-Promises was to spend every Saturday for six months cleaning up litter from the preserve, a sentence that began in September.

Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles also happened to be there for litter cleanup, and he just knew that the little bastard was teeming to let everyone else at Beacon Hills High know where Derek was spending his Saturdays.

Not that Derek really minded others knowing that he had a court date and an official sentence – it would probably help is rebellious image. He just didn't want everybody to know he was wasting his weekend hours making a clean space for fucking Bambi.

After the second cleanup, Derek had tried to butter Stiles up by approaching the sophomore as a friend – mostly to get dirt on why Stiles was also there, an effort to ensure that Stiles kept quiet about Derek's own secret. But of course Stiles had ignored every one of Derek's efforts to communicate, proving once again that Stiles thought himself better than just about everyone else in Beacon Hills. Derek especially.

Derek wasn't sure whether it was simply the dirt Stiles had over him or the other teen's snotty attitude that drove him up the wall so much, but he was about to fucking burst with frustration.

Derek _should_ be inside blissfully fucking around, but instead he stood outside alone, contemplating what Stiles's next move against him might be.

As Derek refocused his gaze on Stiles, he noticed that the teen was caught up in a fit of laughter over something Danny Mahealani was saying.

Apparently Stiles's social circle had grown to include more than just Lydia Martin.

Derek felt more than heard the beer bottle in his hand crack underneath his tightening grip. He didn't even remember picking it back up.

***

Stiles leaned back a bit onto the Martin's kitchen counter as Danny seemed to stumble slightly forward, both teenagers chuckling.

Originally, Stiles had been a little nervous about attending Lydia's first party of the year, mostly because he usually found himself ignored as the Sheriff's kid. The only people that had time for him were those that he had assisted in times of crisis and his limited friend pool, which so far that school year meant Greenberg and Lydia.

So it felt more than nice when Danny approached Stiles in the kitchen, since Lydia was somewhere else in the house doing host things or God knew what else.

"The worst is when she starts assessing every past relationship you've ever had," Danny said, referring to Lydia as he shook his head, "She never forgets the worst hits. Ever."

"Ha," Stiles said, shrugging his shoulders and bringing a hand up to rub nervously at the back of his neck, "I wouldn't really know much about that."

Danny's glossy eyes seemed to gain new focus, narrowing back at Stiles.

"Why haven't you dated anyone, Stiles?" Danny asked.

"Uh…" Stiles said, feeling his shoulders begin to hunch as he thought through the best way to avoid where the conversation was headed, "No one's really… I mean… I'm just not really anyone's type, I guess."

"That's _so_ not true!" Danny said, eyes widening, "I've asked you several times for–"

Danny stopped mid sentence as a pitcher full of something fell onto Danny. Stiles's eyes widened, and both teens turned toward the offender: Derek Hale.

"Oops," Derek said, not really sounding that apologetic.

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Given his recent history with Derek Hale – or, well all of their history – that pitcher was probably meant to land on him.

"Fuck, Derek," Danny said, wiping his hands down the wet expanse of his shirt, "Shit that was cold! Can you at least grab me a towel, man?"

Derek stood silent, staring back at Danny.

After an intense stare down, Danny's head began to swivel back and forth between Derek and Stiles.

"Oh," Danny said, head turned back to Derek, "Really?"

"Really, what, Mahealani?" Derek asked, jaw clenched.

"Nothing," Danny said, raising his hands into the air, "Absolutely nothing. Stiles, I'm going to go find a towel to dry off with, it was good to see you out tonight."

"Yeah…" Stiles said, brow furrowed as he attempted to understand what had just played out in front of him, "Okay."

Before Stiles could reflect further on the situation, a clawed hand grasped firmly onto his shoulder, pulling him slightly forward toward Derek.

"Tell _anyone_ about what I do on Saturdays, and I'll–" Derek said, eyes narrowed as the tips of his fangs peeked out of his mouth.

"Villainous gist understood," Stiles said, placing a firm grasp onto Derek's clawed hand and pulling himself out of the werewolf's clutch, "Now do me a favor, and keep your claws to yourself."

Stepping back, Stiles shook his head as he took in the dumbstruck look on Derek's face. Derek Hale probably hadn't been challenged since the first grade, when everyone on the playground had met older sibling, Laura Hale, for the first time. Stiles still had nightmares about what she had done to his juice box.

Stiles's interaction with Derek was just another reminder why it was best for him to avoid 99.9% of his class, he really should have just skipped the party altogether.

Pulling his car keys out of his pocket, Stiles made his way out the kitchen back door. He figured Lydia was too preoccupied to notice his absence, so he could probably get away without saying goodbye.


	3. Huff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek followed Aiden's head nod toward Ethan, who was waiting near the reserve bordering the field. He stood right where the running trail wound out and then back into the woods.
> 
> Derek narrowed his eyes as he saw a familiar figure run out into the clearing. Stiles Stilinski.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge apologies for making anyone wait for this new chapter – this summer has been... Well, let's just say I'm happy to see it go.
> 
> I'm just now catching up on comments from other fics – including 'I Belong to You' – so if you've been waiting for a response there as well, I am so sorry! It was not my intention, but I appreciate all of the patience!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Derek released a frustrated sigh as he sat on the outside bleachers next to the high school's field. October was halfway through, and Derek's mood still hadn't lifted since August.

If anything, the knot of confusion in his chest had continued to persist and grow over time.

At first he thought the issue was delayed guilt over the driving violations that past summer, so he put a little extra effort into his chores at home. After a whole weekend of cleaning the windows on all three stories, inside and out, he realized he didn't give a fuck about being pulled over.

Then he thought maybe it was because he had already platformed on the exercise regime he put together for the Fall. It seemed plausible – he had been putting in some extra cardio since he wasn't driving wherever he wanted. That shit had to add up, right?

Nope. Derek dedicated three weeks to the most intense workout sessions he could come up with. He definitely saw some great results, but the weirdness in his chest remained.

He decided the new exercise results weren't large enough to continue killing himself over, and he was definitely done wasting his weekend hours on bullshit experiments. His free hours were already limited because of his mandated reserve cleanup time.

He stopped waking up two hours early every morning and went back to eating a couple packs of Reese's and jerking off to porn after the reserve visits. An apology to himself of sorts, for being such an idiot.

The rewards still didn't solve the issue though. Maybe he was lonely? Porn could only do so much, and he watched a lot of it. He could circle back through his classmates for someone to fuck around with, but nobody really seemed worth his time. Besides, the energy to be charming wasn't really worth it. That's why he liked porn so much in the first place.

If he was really hard up, he could just see if Aiden and Ethan's joke about a threesome was really a joke. Derek guessed it wasn't, they seemed really into any kind of pleasure they could find.

Derek shook his head at the thought, unsure what that meant about his choice in friends. It was probably some weird form of depression about losing his car privileges.

"Watch this," Aiden said, sitting on the bleachers next to him, jarring Derek from his thoughts with an elbow jab.

Derek followed Aiden's head nod toward Ethan, who was waiting near the reserve bordering the field. He stood right where the running trail wound out and then back into the woods.

Derek narrowed his eyes as he saw a familiar figure run out into the clearing. Stiles Stilinski.

The knot inside him swelled, and a hodgepodge of emotions overwhelmed him.

Okay, maybe it wasn't the car after all. Maybe he was just really pissed off at this fucking sophomore. Who seemed to be fucking everywhere.

"Hey," Ethan called to Stiles, stepping onto the middle of the path and forcing Stiles to pause his pace.

Derek couldn't see Ethan's face from his position, but if he had to guess, the young alpha was offering what he thought was his best sex inducing smile. Derek thought it made Ethan look more like one of those hyenas from the Lion King cartoon that his little brother, Rick, was currently obsessed with.

For his part, Stiles wore a blank face. The same face he always offered Derek and his pack, and the one that pissed Derek off so much.

Derek felt like his whole body was on fire with the amount his blood boiled from just watching Stiles's impassive reaction.

"Got my car out of the shop yesterday," Ethan said, flexing his arms slightly, "What time should I pick you up, six?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and attempted to maneuver around Ethan, but the wolf moved with him.

"Fuck off, Ethan," Stiles said, crossing his arms around his torso.

"Hear that boys, he knows my name!" Ethan yelled, turning back toward Derek and Aiden.

Derek rolled his eyes while Aiden offered a thumbs up and shrill celebratory cry.

"Come on, Stiles," Ethan said, turning back around to the sophomore, "It's Friday night, and your ass is looking too good to leave at home these days."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Stiles said, slipping around Ethan, "Extra emphasis on the _no_ thanks."

As Stiles merged back into the reserve, Ethan turned back toward Derek and Aiden, hands thrown up in the air as he walked back toward the bleachers.

"Fuck was that?" Ethan asked.

"Some lame shit," Aiden said, nodding, "You're going to have to try harder if you want a piece of that."

"God damn it," Ethan said, "I so do, though. You know that's virgin tight ass right there. You know it!"

"Yeah, well good luck getting him to say more than a sentence to you," Aiden said, nodding, "He doesn't like us."

"Treats us like we're dirt," Derek said, voice thick with anger.

"Yeah!" Ethan said, "We should mess with him, until he understands who's better than who."

"Like how?" Aiden asked, laughing, "You want to light his books on fire or some shit like that? His father's the Sheriff moron."

"I know that," Ethan said, glaring back at Aiden, "I'm not stupid. But there's got to be a way... They're not wolves, so it's not like they notice things like scent. We could check out their house one day."

"Yeah," Aiden said, rolling his eyes, "I'm not getting arrested again just so that you can steal Stilinski's dirty underwear."

"Shut up, man," Ethan said, now grinning at his twin, "Watch what you say, or I'll piss all over your things like I'm going to his."

"That's..." Aiden said, scrunching his face as if he had never seen his brother before, "Kind of genius. He'd smell like pack, but he'd never know it. It's almost – what was Lydia blabbering on about today in English? Poetic justice?"

"He'd even get rid of the evidence for us, the next time he did the wash," Ethan said, face swelling with pride at the idea.

The knot twisted inside him again, and Derek decided he had spent enough time listening to the twins prattle on while the sun sunk lower.

"You're both idiots," Derek said, standing up from the bleachers, "We're not pissing on anyone's stuff. And we're not visiting the Sheriff's house, the less I see of him each week, the better. I'm out of here, see you guys later."

"You're not hanging out with us tonight?" Ethan asked Derek's retreating back.

"I'm busy," Derek said over his shoulder.

"Man, fuck him anyways," Aiden said to Ethan, "Watch this."

Derek rolled his eyes at the sound of the twins tumbling down the metal bleachers together, but he didn't look back.

***

Derek scratched his  stomach as he stood in front of the open refrigerator, letting the cool air chill his bare skin.

Since returning home, he'd spent the last few hours switching between video games and jerking off. Somewhere around midnight, Derek decided he needed a reese's break, which led him to the kitchen.

Praising the heavens upon seeing the milk carton, Derek lifted the carton up to his mouth, forgoing a glass for convenience. As he turned his head to drink, he realized he was being indefinitely judged by his older sister, Laura, who stood in the doorway leading to the hallway.

"Cute," Laura said, voice dry as she assessed Derek, "I would question whether or not you actually own pants, but I need a favor, so I'm holding the bitchy in."

"No," Derek said, scowling back at his sister.

Whatever Laura wanted from Derek would not be enjoyable for Derek. He'd been duped too many times before – her paybacks were never worth it.

"Come on, Derry," Laura said, voice lightening into something saccharine, "Help me out! You clearly don't have weekend plans anyway, otherwise you wouldn't be in your boxers drinking milk out of the carton at midnight like a loser. I know you have time for me!"

"Double no," Derek said, recapping the milk carton as he turned back toward the refrigerator.

"It comes with a car," Laura said, shaking her own car keys in the air, "When's the last time you were even behind the wheel?"

Derek paused to consider Laura's offer. It had been a while since he felt the freedom of going wherever he wanted.

Laura wasn't offering his Camaro, but she had a pretty sweet ride of her own.

"I get to keep it for the rest of the weekend," Derek said, turning back to Laura.

"Rest of the day," Laura said, crossing her arms over her torso, "Otherwise mom will figure it out, don't be greedy."

"Fine," Derek said, huffing, "What am I doing?"

"Rick's got a playdate in the afternoon," Laura said, offering a wide grin, "I was supposed to take him, but Jordan's actually going to be in town this weekend."

"So you're ditching your little brother because your police academy boyfriend is playing hookie?" Derek asked, eyebrow raised.

"Like you wouldn't do the same," Laura said, already turning to leave the kitchen, "Fortunately, Rick's safe until someone's stupid enough to give you the time of day."

"Fuck you, too, Laura," Derek said, stuffing two reese's into his mouth at once.

***

Derek shook his head as he gripped the wheel of Laura's silver 2004 Porsche Carrera.

He turned his head to examine his little brother sitting excitedly in the passenger seat. Not for the first time – even that day – he questioned their familial relation.

What a waste of a Saturday. Not only had he spent the morning mindlessly cleaning up the reserve – glaring angrily at the back of Stiles's head – but here he was riding nerdy. If he had known where Rick's playdate was, he wouldn't have accepted at all.

"What kind of dweeb meets his friends at the library?" Derek asked, jabbing lightly at Rick's shoulder.

"Reading is cool, Derek!" Rick said, scowling up at him.

If it didn't prove their relation, Derek would have started laughing at how ridiculous Rick's small but large eyebrows looked glaring up at him.

"And my friend is cool," Rick said, turning away, smile returning as he looked out the window, "I can share him, but you can't have him. He's mine."

"Whatever you say, little man," Derek said, pulling into the library's parking lot, "I don't need to be friends with some little six year old anyways. Especially one that spends his Saturday afternoon at the library."

"He's not six!" Rick said, mouth formed into a pout as he tumbled out of the car, "He's almost your age! But cooler than you. The coolest ever."

Derek hesitated as he held the library's entrance door open for Rick, what kind of creep was his little brother meeting with? Did Talia know about this? Did she approve this?

Derek unsheathed his claws as he ran to catch up with Rick, ready to interrogate any adult approaching the little boy. He stopped when he found Rick seated at the information desk, and the knot inside him seemed to triple.

At that moment, Derek's unhappy face could not have contrasted more with Rick's elated one.

"Hey bud," Stiles said, offering the friendliest smile Derek had ever seen on the boy's face in... well, ever, "I almost thought you weren't going to come today. I'm glad you did though, 'cause I've been setting all these new books aside for you."

Fuck no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this fic, please consider sharing your thoughts with me!


	4. Epic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah," Ethan said, voice and scent more annoyed than excited, "What the fuck? I thought you said we weren't going to go through with the plan."
> 
> "What plan?" Derek asked, dread already filling his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks for all the kind remarks and positive support for this fic, even though it's still pretty early in production.
> 
> This chapter gets just a _little_ graphic toward the end, so you may want to skip to the last scene if you start feeling uncomfortable.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Derek stood in disbelief as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

His little brother, a boy of only six years, was achieving something Derek had never done before: maintaining conversation with Stiles Stilinski.

"This one here," Stiles said, lifting up a book larger than Rick himself, "Is the complete history of the very first werewolf king, Richert the Great _and_ Terrible."

Rick's eyes doubled in size as he let out a small gasp.

Derek didn't think he quite understood what was happening – Stiles Stilinski _hated_ werewolves. That's why he never spoke to Derek – why he lifted his nose up to Derek in the school hallways and ignored every word Derek offered him.

"It's a tale of more than just werewolves though," Stiles said, grinning back at the small boy, "There's other magical creatures, too – like dragons, elves, kanima, mermaids, and even wizards."

"Wow," Rick said, "Are we going to read it?"

"We can," Stiles said, nodding, "But let's start with your story sheets first."

Rick grinned as he lifted a small black book bag from his legs.

Had he carried that with him in the car? Derek didn't remember seeing it. Granted, it was surprisingly smaller than Rick. It's possible he missed it.

Derek watched silently as Rick pulled out several pages with scribbled sentences and a few badly drawn illustrations on them.

Some pages were stapled together, and others seemed to be tied with glue or actual string.

Stiles pushed his seat closer to Rick as the little boy poured over the piles of paper.

"Oh," Stiles said, lifting a grouping of pages with several pieces of tape sticking out from the paperclip binding, "This one's new – what's it about?"

Rick pushed himself sideways until he was in Stiles's personal space so that he could look at the pages. He pulled lightly at the paper to take it away from Stiles.

"That's a new story about Rick the wolf," Rick said, smiling as he laid out the pages so that they could be shared between them, "And how he saved Stiles the fox."

"I'm already sold," Stiles said, nodding seriously, "Stiles does seem to get into a lot of trouble, so I can understand how Rick might need to help sometimes."

"Yeah," Rick said, nodding along as well, "I'll read it to you."

"Okay," Stiles said, leaning back in his seat to get comfortable.

"Stiles the fox is very cool," Rick said, brow set as he concentrated on the pages, "The coolest fox in the whole forest."

As Stiles's grin widened, Derek felt like his molars had to be dust from all the grinding he was doing.

He sat down in a seat across from the information desk, prepared to grab a magazine or nap while whatever was happening between Stiles and his little brother continued to play out. That was until he heard a familiar name.

"But one day Stiles ran into a mean wolf named Ethan," Rick said, "And he needed the help of the bravest and smartest wolf in the forest, Rick!"

For the first time since he had stepped foot in the library, Stiles offered a nervous glance to Derek.

A steady anger had been building and crawling throughout Derek since he first saw Stiles, but now – having heard his little brother label his friend as mean – that anger turned to rage.

It was one thing for Stiles to dislike his pack, it was another for Stiles to feed his narrow minded viewpoint to Rick.

Derek felt the slight dig of his claws unsheathing, and he tasted the first bit of blood from his fangs protruding, but otherwise he remained still.

Though he wanted to rip the pages out of Rick's hands and to throw the little boy back in the car so that they could head home and never see Stiles again, he waited. He waited, and he listened.

***

Stiles knew that this day would come eventually.

There were days that he questioned whether he would have struck up a friendship with Rick Hale so quickly had he known the little boy's last name.

Thinking back to how alone Rick had seemed in the children's book area at the start of last summer, nearly six months ago, Stiles consistently reminded himself with a heavy sigh – yes, yes he would have still reached out to the boy.

Unfortunately, that meant accepting that one day Derek Hale would learn about their friendship. Meaning Stiles would have to suffer through Derek's presence.

Stiles did his best to ignore Derek, blocking the young alpha out as he focused on Rick's reading. He listened as fictional Rick, the bravest and smartest wolf in the forest, bopped the mean wolf, Ethan, on the nose, sending the wolf fleeing from the forest forever. And he listened as Rick celebrated with fictional Stiles, the coolest fox in the forest, with lots of shouting, cake, and then bed time stories – living happily ever after as best friends.

Stiles also listened to about six other versions of the same story, or at least similar stories, wherein best friends Rick and Stiles overcame some forest issue and then celebrated.

Sometimes there were supporting characters, and usually there was a new villain of the week so to say, but three things always remained the same: 1) each story began with Stiles, 2) Rick inevitably made an appearance, and 3) Rick always saved the day.

Stiles was pretty certain that he was just a few more stories away from completely melting into a pile of heart felt goo.

He was also swelling with ridiculous pride, because while the stories may have been somewhat silly, and even monotonous, they were incredibly imaginative for such a young boy.

***

Somewhere between the fifth and sixth, "Epic Tales of Rick and Stiles," Derek dozed off.

He had begun to notice that Stiles would pause Rick in the middle of a tale, asking questions related to the plot or about a word choice, and it was that realization that led him to understand that Stiles was actually tutoring Rick.

Their friendship wasn't a friendship at all, it was a monetary exchange for services. Which completely explained why Stiles was seen speaking with a Hale in public.

Derek almost felt sorry of Rick.

Rather than continue to feed the anger building inside him, and to avoid having to listen to Stiles once they got to the human's turn to read the historical tales of Richert, the first werewolf king, Derek slept.

Unfortunately, it was the smell of the human growing stronger that roused him.

Derek woke with a startle, snarling aggressively at the creeping form of Stiles in front of him. The other teen held out a hesitant hand above Derek's shoulder, as if he were about to wake Derek.

"Uh..." Stiles said, glancing down at his feet quickly, "Rick is picking out a few books for the week, but he's about ready to leave."

"Good," Derek growled out, forcing Stiles back as he stood up.

As Stiles continued to hesitate near Derek, the familiar knot of confusion swelled, bringing with it the more familiar and steady pull of anger.

"You probably don't need me to tell you this," Stiles said, a hand rubbing nervously at his other arm, "But Rick is a really smart kid. He's reading at a really fast pace now, and his confidence reading aloud has grown since May. He rarely forgets how to pronounce a word, and he almost never slips out of context – even when I interrupt him to see how quickly he can get back into the story–"

"I don't have your money," Derek said, jaw clenched.

"Excuse me?" Stiles asked, staring back at Derek with a confused brow.

"I said," Derek spit out, "I don't have your money."

Derek pulled his keys out as Rick came running toward them from the information desk, a bag of books in one hand, the other waving frantically goodbye to Danny Mahealani now seated at the desk.

That pissed Derek off, too.

"I don't–" Stiles said, face still pulled into a look of confusion.

"You'll have to get it next week from Laura," Derek said, "Or Talia, whoever drops him off normally."

Derek turned to face Rick as the boy grew closer, but then he remembered Rick's first story, the one that mentioned a mean wolf named Ethan.

"And just a quick note of professionalism for you," Derek said, "You probably shouldn't talk about other adults to him. He's just a kid, he doesn't understand things like we do."

Stiles continued to stare bemusedly at Derek. If anything, his face had grown more confused as Derek spoke.

Good. Let him be the one to suffer with a knot of confusion for awhile.

"Ready?" Derek asked Rick, the young boy gripping tightly to Stiles's legs.

"See you later, Stiles!" Rick said, running to catch up with Derek.

***

After he dropped Rick back off at the Hale house with Peter, Derek decided to drive aimlessly around the town.

Laura owed him the car time anyways, especially after that fucking library visit. Pure torture.

Since leaving, all Derek kept seeing when he closed his eyes was the confused look on Stiles's face. Almost hurt even.

As if _he_ were the wronged party there. If anybody needed an apology from that afternoon, it was Rick. And maybe Ethan.

Stiles was lucky that someone was even interested in him.

Derek pulled the car over on the street as rage consumed him, claws making it difficult to continue steering the wheel.

His stomach dropped as he looked up to take in his surroundings. He was parked a corner away from the Stilinski's house.

Ethan's words rang throughout his mind, _"They're not wolves, so it's not like they notice things like scent. We could check out their house one day."_

Derek reached down and unlatched his seat belt before stepping out of the car.

***

Seated on Stiles's unmade bed, Derek took in the room around him.

In some ways, it was exactly as he had imagined it – a variety of books lined or stacked neatly along the walls, several organized file folders sitting on the computer desk, and lots of photos of happy smiling people littering the walls.

Derek stood up as he surveyed the photos on the wall near the desk. As Derek had expected, there were several shots of the Sheriff and Stiles smiling while on what looked like various vacation trips. Laughing on a beach, rabbit ears in the snow, splitting a coconut with two straws, etc.

One photo in particular stood out, as it was slightly aged. A woman joined the Sheriff and a much smaller Stiles, this time on a sunset beach. Clearly the teen's deceased mother.

Derek moved on to a photo of preteen Stiles with his arm swung around another young boy with dark wavy hair. The boy looked slightly familiar, and Derek guessed they had all gone to school together at some point, but Derek didn't remember seeing the boy in recent years.

Derek's interest moved from the two boys to a couple of mostly blank pieces of printer paper on the wall, save for a few crudely drawn versions of a wolf and fox, each labeled Rick and Stiles respectively.

The weird mesh of confusion and emotions that had been subtly growing since he stepped into the room seemed to double upon seeing Rick's drawings displayed on the wall.

It was an indicator that Stiles didn't see the boy as just a paycheck, and that confused Derek even more. He moved on to the rest of the room, deciding not to linger on the knot in his chest.

He noticed that the room also surprised him in other ways. While it was clear that there was a system of organization at play there, the room was still pretty easy to identify as that of a teenager's – mostly by the presence of a few glasses that should probably be in the sink and the pile of clothing on the floor near the door.

Derek had never dreamed that Stiles would keep dirty laundry spread out on the floor like that.

The thought gave Derek pause, and he sat down on the bed again as he considered whether or not he had actually _thought_ about Stiles's room before.

The answer became an obvious yes as his eyes landed on a pair of boxer briefs near his foot.

Derek's eyes widened as the knot soared.

Derek reached for the anger that had driven him into the house, but it was now missing. All he could feel was the swelling in his chest that was becoming clearer the more he breathed in Stiles's scent.

His alarm grew as he moved to wipe a sweaty palm against his jeans, only to find himself half hard. Had he been erect since entering the room?

The more Derek thought about it, the more he realized that the answers he had been seeking since August were unmistakably obvious.

The anger he felt at Lydia Martin's party wasn't directed at Stiles for talking to Danny, but at Danny for talking to Stiles. The rage he felt upon seeing Stiles's blank face when Ethan approached him near the field wasn't due to some lack of compassion from Stiles, it was directed at Ethan for approaching what Derek wanted for himself. The frustration he felt when leaving the reserve each Saturday morning was due to the fact that he hadn't gained any favor with Stiles, despite having spent so many hours in the teen's presence. And the reason he had begun to spend so many hours on porn sites wasn't because he was enjoying the porn – he was looking for models that resembled Stiles.

He, Derek Hale, was crushing on Stiles Stilinski.

"Fuck," Derek said, raising his hands to cover his face.

Derek attempted to focus his mind, but all he could process at that moment was the intense scent of Stiles. He felt dizzy from it, almost drunk on it, and his pants were beginning to hurt from his erection.

Derek opened his eyes and stared back down at the boxer briefs on the floor.

Derek was certain that at any moment, a neighbor or the Sheriff himself was going to bust into the room, made aware of his presence by the booming of his heart thudding into overdrive.

But no one came, even after he sat there waiting for several minutes.

Derek let loose a deep breath before reaching down to grasp the shorts.

Laying down onto the bed, Derek made quick work of undoing his pants. He gasped as he released himself, the almost unbearable tension giving way to the freedom of air.

Derek closed his eyes as he began pumping his cock with his free hand.

With short, quick, strokes, Derek worked to bring himself to climax as quickly as possible.

The last thing he needed was to be caught now. Though the thought of Stiles walking in on him like this set a new burning within him that he didn't realize he could feel. That feeling, combined with the heavy scents surrounding him, pushed his orgasm even closer.

Feeling the familiar pull of his climax, Derek lifted the boxer briefs to his nose, dragging in as much of the scent as he could.

The shorts proved more useful as he bit down on them to avoid the scream he almost made as he came, body almost writhing in newfound levels of ecstasy. Both scent and taste overwhelming him.

It was better than any porn he had ever watched, including those with models that resembled Stiles's looks or body language habits.

After several minutes of pure, dazed, bliss, Derek reached out blindly, eyes still closed, for the bed sheet surrounding him. Hand grasping fabric, he pulled it up to wipe himself clean.

Throwing the sheet to the side, Derek opened his eyes and stood up quickly. He pulled his pants up and surveyed the room one last time.

A hundred different emotions seemed to war within his mind, most happy and satisfied, but a few filled with guilt and shame.

Derek pushed the negative thoughts back, deciding to revel in the happiness of this moment for as long as possible.

Pausing briefly to consider the consequences, Derek shoved the boxer briefs into his pants pocket and made his way out of the room.

He could think about consequences and negativity later. He had a hard enough road ahead of him now that he fully understood the mixed bag of emotions he felt for Stiles.

***

The following Monday found Derek still too happy and ecstatic to feel any kind of guilt about breaking into and then defiling Stiles's room.

He also hadn't put much thought into what his emotions meant for him or Stiles, or whether he planned to act on them any further than he already had.

If anything, Derek had simply decided to revel in the newfound energy of it all. Even though there were only two mornings between him and the discovery, already his workouts were more focused, there was a spring in his step, and that awful knot of weirdness in his chest had finally passed.

Life was fucking great.

So it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when Aiden and Ethan sat down next to him at lunch, identical looks of amazement staring back at him.

"When did you do it?" Aiden asked, voice hushed but excited.

"Yeah," Ethan said, voice and scent more annoyed than excited, "What the fuck? I thought you said we weren't going to go through with the plan."

"What plan?" Derek asked, dread already filling his stomach.

"Entering the Stilinski's house!" Aiden said, reaching a hand out to smack Derek's head.

"And pissing on his stuff," Ethan grumbled, "Though you didn't stop there, did you, Derek?"

"What are you two talking about?" Derek asked, physically feeling all of the happiness within him being swallowed whole.

"Game's up man," Aiden said, patting Derek's shoulder, "We know you did it, we smelled it."

"Yeah," Ethan said nodding, "I guess I appreciate the effort and all, but did you really have to jizz on his sweatshirt?"

"Don't listen to him," Aiden said, smacking Ethan's head this time, "He's just jealous he didn't get to sperm out onto something of Stiles... Unless you actually spermed out onto _Stiles_?"

"What?" Derek asked, the familiar swirl of confusion returning.

"Didn't think so," Aiden said, shaking his head, "I told myself – there's no way Derek would chase that, those two hate each other. I knew you just planted it on his sweater."

At that moment Stiles walked near their table, and Derek understood what Aiden and Ethan were talking about within seconds.

Either Derek had wiped himself clean with the red hoodie Stiles was currently wearing, or he missed a spot. A big spot.

"It's too bad no one else can appreciate the irony of this beautiful moment," Aiden said, watching Stiles walk toward the other end of the cafeteria.

Derek closed his eyes as his scent combined with Stiles's faded.

He spoke too soon – life was not fucking great.

It fucking sucked.


	5. Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, man," Danny said, face now completely red as he tugged on Stiles’s sweatshirt again, "I don’t think this one made it through the wash."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, as mentioned on my [Tumblr](http://dontleaveportland.tumblr.com), huge apologies for the delay in updates and comment responses. My life got a little... Okay, a lot uprooted, and then I spent the last month or so applying for new jobs at the end of busy work days. Several interviews later, I'm back home and with a new job!
> 
> In the last six months or so, my creativity time pretty much died, but I'm reviving that time and pursuing new chapter updates, as well as new stories. If you've been waiting for updates, a huge thank you for your patience!

As Stiles attempted to carefully maneuver his way through the crowded cafeteria to his usual table shared with Greenberg (and on a rare day, Lydia), he felt a small jolt of surprise at discovering Danny Mahealani waiting for him rather than Greenberg. 

Stiles had already forgotten that Greenberg had texted him that morning complaining of a stomach bug, though Stiles guessed the other teen wasn’t too upset to miss out on school for the day. 

Stiles’s stomach churned with unease at the sight of Danny offering a wide smile his way – Stiles was aware that humanity had the ability to be kind and generous, but teenagers were usually exempt from that particular disease. 

While Danny had begun to speak more frequently with Stiles since Lydia’s early Halloween party – even stopping by the library where Stiles volunteered time on the weekends – Stiles hadn’t really expected Danny to offer the same kindness at school. 

"Hey, Stiles," Danny said, hand slightly lifted into the air in an awkward sort of wave as Stiles approached the table, clearing his throat softly before continuing once Stiles had taken a seat, "I didn’t see Greenberg in fourth period, so I thought you might like some company…" 

Stiles resisted the urge to raise a confused eyebrow at Danny’s thoughtfulness. 

Danny wasn’t _unkind_ , but Danny held a critical role as a popular high school teenager. Stiles got along with most everyone at the school, but he definitely wasn’t popular. He spent too much time avoiding social activities to pull any social weight at the school. 

"And," Danny said, clearing his throat again while his face turned slightly sheepish, a light blush spreading across his cheeks and neck, "I also thought I could bother you for your history notes. You’ve got Jefferson third period, right? I’ve got him second, but I was late getting to school today. Had to help out with my little brother." 

Relief coursed through Stiles, the unease that had been building for the last few minutes giving way as his brain remembered that Danny really did seem to be as sweet as he appeared on paper. 

"Yeah, no problem," Stiles said, nodding quickly as he moved back from the table, twisting around to reach for his book bag set on the ground beneath him. 

At the feel of a tug on the back of his sweatshirt, Stiles swiveled his head back up to the table, Danny’s face scrunched in a look of concern. 

"Hey, man," Danny said, face now completely red as he tugged on Stiles’s sweatshirt again, "I don’t think this one made it through the wash. You jizz on this, or is it that weird goo from our bio lab last week?" 

"What?" Stiles squawked, righting himself back up again and pulling on his sweatshirt to see what Danny was so focused on. 

"Fuck," Stiles said, staring down at the dried mass near the hem of his shirt, "I got dressed in the dark this morning – had to carpool with dad, my Jeep’s been acting up on me lately." 

"You sure that history lesson I missed didn’t just get you all worked up?" Danny asked, large grin returning to his face, "I hope I didn’t miss a lecture on Ben Franklin, I do love a man with a lightning bolt." 

"Me, too," Lydia Martin said, suddenly seating herself down next to Danny across from Stiles, "Whose lightning bolt have you been touching Stiles?" 

At the sound of Danny’s stifled snicker, Stiles offered a pointed glare at the two teens in front of him. 

"Must be from lab," Stiles muttered, standing up slightly to pull the sweatshirt from his frame, "Thanks for pointing it out though, hopefully not too many people noticed." 

"Pretty sure Hale’s crew noticed," Lydia said, nodding toward the table near the cafeteria’s exit doors. 

"Nah," Stiles said, shaking his head as he glanced briefly back at the table, Hale and the Gruesome Twosome staring intently back at him, "Derek’s just pissed at me for spending time with his little brother. I think." 

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked, "Rick, right?" 

"Yeah," Stiles said, nodding as he focused on ignoring the heat of Derek’s stare on his back, "You know him, too?" 

"No," Danny said, shaking his head briefly, "Not really. I’ve seen him sometimes when I drop off or pick up my younger siblings from school. Little guy has the same intense Hale eyebrows and scowl. Kind of hard to miss." 

Stiles felt a grin spread slowly across his face at the – pretty accurate – mental image Danny had painted. He turned back down to his book bag to grab the notes Danny requested and to stuff his sweatshirt into the main pocket. 

"Just get them back to me tomorrow if you can," Stiles said, holding the papers out toward Danny. 

"You’re a life saver," Danny said, nodding, "Jefferson nearly kicked my ass with that last pop quiz, I’ve started writing down almost everything the man has to say." 

"Yeah, he’s really fucked up," Lydia said, nodding as she pulled her own lunch out of her bag, "Any big plans this weekend, Danny? Haven’t seen much of you these days." 

"Uh…" Danny said, shaking his head slightly, "Not really. What about you Stiles?" 

"Not really," Lydia said, shaking her head, "Stiles usually wastes it all volunteering across town – most of it’s not even worth putting down on a resume. I’m starting to suspect he’s seeing someone." 

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked, raising a curious brow at Stiles. 

"Lydia–" Stiles said, starting to object, but quickly being shushed by Lydia's wink. 

"Why else would he ignore me every weekend?" Lydia asked, "It’s not because he’s shopping, just look at what he’s wearing. I actually had to blackmail him to come to my Halloween party." 

"Blackmail?" Danny asked, turning an excited face toward Lydia, "Tell me more." 

"Well–" Lydia said, a perfectly manicured finger already lifted into the air. 

"You’re being dramatic," Stiles said, interrupting as he shook his head, "I’ve just been busy job searching." 

"The Sheriff making you get a job?" Lydia asked, a look of horror overcoming her face, almost making Stiles chuckle, "Stiles, I told you, I will pay you money to spend time with me." 

"Stop that," Stiles said, shaking his head again, "I’m hoping to find something that will help me with college applications, and maybe something to put toward a savings account." 

"Oh," Danny said, face lighting up quickly, "I might actually be able to help you!" 

"Danny," Lydia said, attempting to mumble quietly, "Ixnay on the _help_ word, Stiles does not like charity. Believe me, I’ve tried." 

"I can hear you," Stiles said, rolling his eyes, "And offering to burn my closet is not something I would consider charitable, Lydia." 

"See," Lydia said, offering a shrug to Danny. 

"No, really," Danny said, nodding his head quickly, "My internship with the Hale family is ending after December – it was supposed to end back in August, but Talia insisted she needed the help." 

"And you’re not picking it back up in the Spring because…" Stiles said, already ready to disregard the suggestion, mentally inserting, _"they’re horrible people,"_ at the end of his sentence. 

"Because I’ve applied for the tech internship at the Sheriff’s station," Danny said, smirking back at Stiles, "You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours." 

Lydia snickered at the metaphor, and Stiles offered her a pointed glare as he chewed over Danny’s words. 

"What do you do for them?" Stiles asked, suddenly feeling the heat of Derek’s stare on his back again. 

He shook it off paranoia, focusing back on Danny. 

"Odd jobs really," Danny said, "Talia and her brother, Peter, run a couple of different companies across the nation, so sometimes I make calls to different vendors, or I’m asked to benchmark different service and production stats. Usually though I run email interference and pick up the coffee. Sometimes Laura will borrow me for errands, but for the most part it’s pretty chill." 

Stiles bit his lip as he considered the possibility. The Hale family definitely wasn’t known for being exactly… Sociable was probably the best euphemism, but then again, neither was Stiles. The only real downside would be working with Peter and/or running into Derek. 

"And it pays nicely," Danny said, "It’s just not as tech-involved as I would like." 

"Maybe," Stiles said, nodding slowly, "I’ll talk to my dad about it, is it okay if I get back to you?" 

"Sure," Danny said, nodding quickly. 

"I’ll still talk to him about your internship application though," Stiles said, "I know he’s got a folder of applicants sitting on the table, he just hasn’t had much time to go over it." 

"That’d be great, Stiles," Danny said, offering another bright grin to him. 

Lydia seemed to narrow her eyes as she stared back and forth between the two teens, and Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He missed Greenberg. 

Greenberg never would have let anything like this happen at their lunch table. 

*** 

Derek clenched his teeth as he watched Danny smile back at Stiles from across the room. 

This particular lunch period had been a rollercoaster of emotions for him, though the primary emotion had been one of violence toward Beacon’s friendliest jock. At least until the idiot had proved himself somewhat useful to Derek, pushing Stiles toward an internship with the Hale family. 

Though Derek’s head was still spinning from the reality that _that_ possibility was a positive in his life, he couldn’t ignore the excitement growing in his chest. 

If Stiles Stilinski wanted that internship, it was as good as his as far as Derek was concerned. He just needed to make sure Stiles actually wanted it. 

"Fuck off," Derek said, waving Aiden’s hand out of his face as he stood up from the table, "I’ve got a call to make."


	6. Hey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well, he just seemed to think that…" his father said, hesitating slightly, "Maybe Hale’s improvements were due to you. Apparently the boy sticks pretty close to you out on the reserve."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully everyone's all right with the fast pace here, most chapters represent a new month – or at least a couple week's progress – since we've got a lot of ground to cover up to Derek's proposal. He might need the Sheriff to do it for him though, Stiles is definitely slow on the uptake.

Bent over the open door of the kitchen’s oven, Stiles pushed a small paring knife in-between one of the legs of the small turkey he had been roasting for the past two hours or so.

"You think it’s done?" Stiles asked, still staring down at the gold bird.

"Damned if I know, son," his father said, leaning down next to him, "Smells good, though."

"It’s the right temperature…" Stiles said, "The recipe says the juices should run clear when you slice into it – does that look clear to you?"

"Uh…" his father said, leaning closer, "Probably as clear as liquid from a bird is gonna get, Stiles. It looks great, just pull it out already."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles said, nodding as he shuffled back to pull the turkey from the oven and place it on top of the stove.

"I definitely wasn’t expecting all this when I got home," his father said, placing a firm hand on the back of Stiles’s neck, "Where’d you find the money and time to put an actual Thanksgiving dinner together?"

"Odd jobs," Stiles said, lifting the turkey onto one of their larger plates and gesturing for his father to take it, "And I decided a while ago to start recipe hunting while working at the library."

"Yeah?" his father asked, juggling the turkey with a bowl of mixed vegetables while walking toward the table, "What did Rick think of that?"

"He didn’t much care for it," Stiles said, a small smile forming as he carried the potatoes and salad dishes behind, "He told me that Thanksgiving was a stupid holiday – I agreed with him on the basis that it perpetuates the false image of wholesome pilgrims helping civilize savage indigenous people, but his eyes kind of glazed over while I tried to explain how, and his older brother seemed to grow another neck vein, too."

"Well," his father said, already seated with two buttered rolls on his plate, "Before we get to the unfortunate subject of Derek Hale, thank you very much for this meal."

"It’s nothing," Stiles said, shrugging his shoulders, but already feeling a warmth growing in his chest from the kind words.

"It’s not nothing," his father said, staring intently back at him, "Most kids your age don’t have to worry about what goes into a dinner like this, much less where to buy everything. I know that since your mother… And well, since I accepted the position as Sheriff, you’ve had to… What I’m trying to say, Stiles, is that you’re turning into a bright young man that anyone would be proud to call their son, but it also worries me sometimes how much responsibility I’ve pushed onto you. I should be the one chasing _you_ down, demanding that we sit down for a meal. You’re running out of time to be a kid, and what little time you still have you seem to spend working or volunteering. It’s not right."

"Come on, Pops," Stiles said, the warmth giving way to old feelings of frustration, "What are you saying? You want me to stop working on my college savings?"

"No," his father said quickly, shaking his head, "Well, yes. Maybe. I don’t know, son. I just want… I want to be sure that somewhere down the road, when you look back on these years, you don’t have regrets. That you don’t wish you had maybe spent more time having fun with other kids your age."

"Dad, you’ve met the other kids my age," Stiles said, lifting a fork to his mouth, "They’re not that interesting."

"Yeah, well," his father said, still staring intently back at Stiles, "Some of them seem to think you’re pretty interesting."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, setting his fork down as a feeling of unease crept into his stomach.

"That young man from your class that applied for the department’s student intern position," his father said, face creasing with thought, "What’s his name… Danny?"

"What about him?" Stiles asked, confusion building alongside the uneasiness in his stomach.

"He just seems pretty focused is all," his father said, looking away for the first time, lifting his own fork up into the air, "Checks in once a week to see if I’ve made a decision about the job. Usually asks about you before hanging up."

"Oh," Stiles said, confusion and unease giving way to the rush of relief, "That’s just Danny. I think we’re sort of friends."

"Mmhmm," his father said, the murmur thick with skepticism, "And there are others."

"Others?" Stiles asked, brow raising in confusion.

"One of my deputies reported to me a couple weeks ago that Derek Hale’s productivity during reserve cleanup seems to have almost doubled," his father said, looking back up at Stiles, "And that his general attitude has also improved."

"Okay?" Stiles said, still unsure where his father was going with the conversation.

"Well, he just seemed to think that…" his father said, hesitating slightly, "Maybe Hale’s improvements were due to you. Apparently the boy sticks pretty close to you out on the reserve."

"No," Stiles said, shaking his head, "Derek Hale _hates_ me, trust me, Pops. What are you trying to get at here?"

"Well," his father said, pausing to bite into a roll, "I was wondering if maybe you weren’t out acting like a kid, because you weren’t sure how to… Well, maybe you didn’t feel like you could tell me… Shit, Stiles. I don’t know, I just felt like maybe you weren’t out spending time with this Danny – or even Derek – because you were afraid to tell me that’s what you wanted."

"Because you don’t like Danny or Derek?" Stiles asked, brow raised again.

If Stiles weren’t quite so confused, he would have laughed at the way his father appeared to physically deflate.

"Good talk, son," his father said, shaking his head, "Listen, do you have any issue with me hiring Danny down at the station?"

"No," Stiles said, shaking his head, "I told you a couple weeks ago that he’s a good kid. I think he’ll do a good job."

"All right," his father said, nodding quickly, "Good. He’s hired. Anything you want to tell me about the Hales, or a particular Hale?"

"Well…" Stiles said, hesitating as he questioned whether or not to bring up the internship Danny would be passing on in the spring, "There’s this internship with the Hales, that Danny is filling right now."

"Mhmm," his father said, now one of his eyebrows raised.

"I was thinking about applying for it," Stiles said, "Just small stuff, running errands and answering the telephone, you know how Talia does a lot of different things for different companies."

"I’m aware," his father said, nodding.

"Well," Stiles said, still unsure since his father didn’t seem to be providing many visual cues regarding his approval, "Danny says it’s good money, and he’s done it since the past summer. I thought it might be good for my resume."

"Despite Derek Hale’s feelings for you," his father said, eyebrow raised in a slightly skeptical arch, "Those being of the hate variety."

"I don’t think I would see him that much," Stiles said, shrugging his shoulders, "Besides, he seems to avoid me as much as I avoid him."

"Right…" his father said, "If you’re comfortable with it, I guess… Just be careful, the Hales are not exactly Beacon’s most upstanding citizens. If something doesn’t feel right, you quit, understand?"

"Pops," Stiles said, a small smile forming as he shook his head, "You’re talking like I have the job."

"If Talia has half the brain people seem to think she does, you do," his father said, placing his hand on the back of Stiles’s neck and giving a firm squeeze, "They will love you, I know it. And I’m fairly positive there’s at least one Hale that would provide you a positive reference."

"Yeah," Stiles said, face splitting into a large grin, "But I’m not sure how much faith Talia will put into Rick’s sense of judgement."

"Jesus, Lord, today," his father seemed to whisper, shaking his head down at his plate before turning back up to Stiles, "Just steer clear from Peter, all right?"

"Sure, Pops," Stiles said, nodding his head but still thrown off by his father’s behavior since the start of the dinner.

"Good," his father said, nodding his head briefly, "This food is fantastic, you did a great job, Stiles."

"Thanks, dad," Stiles said, offering the man another smile, "That means a lot to me. It is pretty good, isn’t it?"

"Pass me those potatoes again," his father said, throwing a small wink as a large grin formed on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks for taking time to read this fanfic, hopefully you're enjoying!


	7. Swipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Danny brings you coffee," Derek said, releasing a frustrated sigh, "Literally, that’s it. You act like the guy has a key to every secret you keep – what is the big deal?"

Derek clamped down on the roar threatening to release from within his chest.

Anger swept down his spine, growing deeper as he recognized that the expression on his face was likely a mirror image of Rick’s whenever the small child was denied something he really wanted.

"Derek," his mother said, "Your behavior this last year has grown increasingly disturbing – you spend more time with the Carver twins than any of your family members, you exhibit extreme mood swings from one minute to the next, and you’ve shown a blatant disregard for the law on more times than I care to remember."

"What Talia is attempting to say, dear nephew," Peter said, clearing his throat as he stepped further into Talia’s home office, "Is that your erratic behavior is worse than that of a typical hormonal-driven teenager – and _now_ , now you’ve clearly shown that you’ve lost your damn mind by asking us to welcome the Sheriff’s son into our own home."

Derek closed his eyes as he felt the sting of claws unsheathing into his closed palms.

There were days that Peter was a helpful, if not necessary, family counterpart. But there were also days that Derek felt like digging his claws into the man’s face, and today was proving to be one of those days.

"If this is about your father," Talia said, staring intently at Peter until the man backed slightly away and then returned her gaze to Derek, "I told you that we can look back into different therapy methods. I can understand how that might seem like admitting a weakness, especially given that some of us seem to have recovered more quickly than others–"

Talia offered another heated glare toward Peter.

"As strong as she is, Laura still struggles with his death every day," Talia continued, "I, too–"

"This is not about him," Derek said through clenched teeth.

"I’m sorry," Peter said, moving forward again, "What did you say?"

"Peter–" Talia said, expression darkening.

"Did you just admit that your request to threaten our entire lineage has nothing to do with the reckless mind of a grieving son?" Peter said, ignoring Talia’s warning looks, "Have you gone mental? Why don’t you just hand me over to the Sheriff now, don’t even bother him for the handcuffs. I’ll go collect my own from my room!"

"Peter, enough," Talia said, voice thickening to match her displeased face, though softening both as she turned back to Derek, "Derek, honey, if this isn’t about your father, then why _do_ you want to invite the Stilinskis so closely into our lives?"

"Do you two have something illegal going on?" Derek asked, deciding to skip over self-examination for a mixture of defensive offense, "Is there something about your businesses that you haven’t told the rest of us? Something you’re afraid Stiles would catch on to?"

"No!" Talia said, rushing to respond before Peter could, "It’s got nothing to do with business, but it has everything to do with _what_ we are. You have to understand that you’re living in a fairly enlightened time for supernaturals, but that’s not always been the case for our kind. And there are times that we skirt along what the Sheriff would consider definitively _legal_ when protecting our own. So, I don’t think it’s unreasonable for Peter or me to pause when you ask us to hire his son as an insider."

"Danny brings you coffee," Derek said, releasing a frustrated sigh, " _Literally,_ that’s it. You act like the guy has a key to every secret you keep – what is the big deal?"

"The beauty of Danny’s employment with our family, _Derry_ ," Peter said, taking the seat beside Derek, "Was in his naive friendliness. The boy was too polite to ask when something he may have witnessed or overhead wasn’t quite kosher. And your mother has recently started to consider a political path, one that may or may not continue to blur lines that our society prefers to believe are sharp. You are gravely mistaken if you think Stiles won’t report back to his father, even unknowingly, about the ongoings of our family."

Derek felt a heat pool across his face as he realized the truth behind Peter’s words, even if he hated to admit it. Whatever shady shit Peter was attempting or would attempt to get his mother into, Stiles would figure it out quickly.

That was part of what used to drive Derek insane about Stiles - he was such a fucking know it all. Always kept his nose stuck in a book, too busy to pay any attention to the rest of his peers.

Derek’s thoughts whirled as he realized that this plan was failing, and that wasn’t an outcome he was willing to accept.

If he wanted to achieve his goal of winning Stiles over – and he very much did – he needed a new strategy. Fast.

"I need a tutor," Derek blurted out, barely recognizing the phrase as it left his mouth and turning down to stare at his lap.

"Excuse me?" Talia asked, leaning forward on the desk.

 _"Winner!"_ Derek thought, internally smirking to himself as he recognized the concerned look growing on his mother’s face.

"I don’t like admitting it," Derek said, twisting his palms in his lap to play up the image of helplessness, although the suggestion was hardly a lie, "But I feel like I’m drowning at school sometimes. I’m not… _dumb_ , but I’ve been struggling to understand concepts as quickly as some of the other kids. And Peter’s right, Stiles is probably the smartest one in the whole school."

"But you suggested him as Danny’s replacement," Talia said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Because I have a reputation to maintain," Derek said, clenching his jaw, "And asking a _sophomore_ for help doesn’t really fit in with that. I thought Stiles could answer your phone calls, and maybe study with me while he did it. And–"

Derek gained confidence as he suddenly remembered his weekend trips to the library with Rick.

"You’re already paying him to tutor Rick!" Derek continued, "So what’s the big deal beefing up his responsibilities?"

"Paying him to tutor Rick?" Talia asked, "Where did you get that idea?"

"From all the time I–" Derek cleared his throat before continuing, " _I’ve_ watched Laura deliver Rick to and from the library so Stiles could help him with his reading and writing."

"Do you know what he’s talking about?" Talia asked, turning to Peter.

"I told you, he’s _mental_ ," Peter said, gesturing his hand in a circular motion close to his head.

"Derek," Talia said, turning back to him, "I’m not paying Stiles to tutor Rick–"

"But–" Derek said, heat swelling as his chest as he prepared to argue.

"There was," Talia said, continuing, "A _free_ summer reading program at the library that Danny suggested for Rick, but whether Stiles was involved in that or not is news to me."

It was Derek’s turn to raise an eyebrow in confusion, the uneasy ball from October returning to his stomach.

Had Stiles really been voluntarily spending time with his little brother? During his first visit to the library, Stiles had seemed confused when Derek angrily informed Stiles to get a check from Talia and to leave him alone.

Fuck.

"However," Talia said, cutting into Derek’s thoughts, "If Stiles has had success with Rick, and you seem to think well of him – something that has become a rarity around here – I will consider it."

"Talia–" Peter said, expression turning to outrage.

"As your _tutor_ ," Talia said, raising a finger to shush Peter, "If the two of you decide to tell others that Stiles is assisting in the same capacity that Danny has been, that will be up to you. We’ll start him off on a trial basis, and if things work out well, I’ll see about adding to his responsibilities. Who knows, it could actually be beneficial for us to have the Stilinskis close after all."

"Okay," Derek said, nodding quickly, ignoring Peter’s vocal protests.

"I’ll reach out to him for a house visit next week," Talia said, standing up from the desk, "That gives him about two weeks to come to decision before your winter break begins – I suggest that if you really want his help, you try to butter him up before then."

 _"Right,"_ Derek thought, he could do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks as always for taking the time to read this fanfic, hopefully you're enjoying it!


	8. Itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well, here’s some good advice for you," Aiden said, stepping in closer, "I heard Stiles bitching to Greenberg about his Jeep still being out of order. He’s been biking to school for half the semester, maybe you should offer him a ride. Like after you drive him home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I hope the last two weeks have been well! My apologies for the slow update, I kind of rewrote this chapter fifteen times or so. I kept adding to it, and then felt like the extra scenes were too much too soon. We'll see where this takes us.

Derek set his most intense glare possible on Danny Mahealani, watching as the other teen grabbed several of Stiles’s textbooks falling out of his locker.

After racking his brain all weekend for ideas to appeal to the other teenager’s good side, Derek had realized any effort would be useless.

Stiles had continued to ignore him while out on reserve cleanup, and Rick got all of Stiles’s eye contact at the library.

He was being fucking outdone by his six year old little brother. And that was some real shit.

As his view of Stiles’s locker became blocked, Derek realized his other issue: the twins.

"Can you believe that?" Ethan asked, voice bitter as he nodded a sour face back towards Stiles’s locker, "Fuck that."

"You’re just pissed neither one of them wants your cock," Aiden said, stepping forward to place an arm around Ethan’s shoulders, "Should’ve moved in sooner, or stayed with Danny."

"Yeah, well," Ethan said, shrugging Aiden’s arm off quickly, "Where was that stellar advice way back in August, hmm? Up Lydia Martin’s ass? Which you still haven’t gotten any of, so why don’t you take your own advice, huh?"

Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

This was exactly the behavior Stiles _didn’t_ need to see – not if he was going to accept Derek’s friends as his own friends.

Sure, Aiden and Ethan had their thick moments, but they were generally good guys.

Stiles was just so busy keeping his nose in a fucking book that he couldn’t see what was in front of him.

But that would change. Hopefully sooner than later.

"Well, here’s some good advice for you," Aiden said, stepping in closer, "I heard Stiles bitching to Greenberg about his Jeep still being out of order. He’s been biking to school half the semester or some shit like that. Maybe you should offer him a ride. Like _after_ you drive him home."

That time Derek did roll his eyes, though he pushed the aggression he felt toward Ethan’s own advances down.

Just like Stiles, Ethan would eventually learn and accept that Stiles was meant to be with Derek.

And the twins just gave Derek one hell of a hint toward realizing his dream. Stepping away from the lockers, he felt a grin stretch across his face for the first time in a week.

***

Navigating the cafeteria’s narrow paths, Stiles made his way to his usual lunch table shared with Greenberg, and sometimes Lydia (and now frequently Danny).

Stiles still hadn’t quite grasped why Danny seemed to suddenly join their social group, but he wasn’t complaining either.

With Danny’s public seal of approval, their classmates seemed to treat Greenberg with more kindness. And Stiles couldn’t remember the last time Aiden and Ethan had harassed either of them.

Granted that may have more to do with Derek, who continued to be man’s greatest attempt to resemble a bear.

Stiles figured Derek was still pissy about the mandatory reserve cleanup – his father definitely had it wrong that Derek seemed to enjoy that time.

The other teenager spent the majority of the time scowling at Stiles and the rest at baby rabbits.

"Stiles!" Lydia’s voice called from behind, causing Stiles to turn, "Stiles, I’ve been chasing you all the way from the library! Would it kill you to slow down? You shouldn’t walk like that, it’s not sexy."

"You want me to walk _sexy_?" Stiles asked, raising a brow slowly.

"Well, it wouldn’t hurt," Lydia said, staring down at Stiles’s chest, "Maybe after we burn that shirt – do you hate me? Is that why you wear graphic t-shirts? You want me to feel pain?"

Stiles rolled his eyes as he turned back toward his original target, now finally close enough to set his food on the table and offer a nod of greeting to Danny and Greenberg.

"Is there a reason you’ve been chasing me?" Stiles asked, turning back toward Lydia as he sat down.

"Yes, but I think you’d rather discuss it elsewhere–" Lydia said, making her eyes wide as she angled her head unsubtly toward Danny and Greenberg, "I saw something interesting in the hallway this morning."

"Nothing interesting happens in the hallway," Danny interjected while his head disbelievingly, "And if it did, you have to tell us, too. Right, Greenberg? Don’t be rude, Lydia."

"Stiles–" Lydia said, hurrying her voice while still standing.

"Hang on," Stiles said, standing up to pull his mobile phone from his pocket, the vibration signaling a call, "It’s probably my dad, he only calls during the day if it’s important– huh."

"Well?" Lydia asked, stepping closer.

"It’s not my dad," Stiles said, shaking his head as he sat back down, "I don’t recognize the number."

"It’s not your mechanic?" Greenberg asked, moving closer.

"Nope," Stiles said, shaking his head again, "I probably won’t hear back from him until next year."

"I know that number," Danny said, peering over Stiles’s phone, "That’s Talia Hale."

***

Pulling nervously at the neck tie he had borrowed from his father, Stiles attempted to understand what Talia Hale had just asked of him.

Fifteen minutes ago, Stiles hadn’t thought it possible to be _more_ uncomfortable sitting inside the Hale house. He had still been sweating from the bike ride up the ridiculously ginormous hill the house sat on, and he was pretty sure every Hale in the house could smell him.

Speaking of which, Stiles felt his palms slick with sweat again as he became increasingly aware of the room’s temperature, which was unfortunate because he had just started to cool down a minute or so ago.

"I’m sorry," Stiles said, reaching up to loosen the tie’s knot slightly, "You’re asking me to…"

"Tutor Derek after school, at least three days a week," Talia said, nodding, face calm as though the request wasn’t anything but normal.

And that’s what he had been afraid Talia had originally asked.

Stiles shifted his gaze toward the other teen in the room, still leaning menacingly against the wall behind Talia’s shoulder.

Derek cocked an eyebrow toward Stiles as their eyes met.

He wished he hadn’t been so wrong fifteen minutes ago.

Fuck.


	9. Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For his part, Stiles hadn’t so much disagreed as he had not not agreed, which had led him to this terrible moment – their first study session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday, all! Hope you're still enjoying how this fic is turning out. I've got a couple exciting chapters planned ahead, but we've got some background work to do before we get there, so I bring you shirtless Derek performing one-handed push ups for a completely clothed Stiles.
> 
> Just another day in the reserve.

Stiles stared awkwardly at the blank wall in front of him, the waning sunset stretching eerie shadows across what was already a tense landscape for him: Derek Hale’s bedroom.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

At the end of his interview with Talia two weeks ago, the alpha had suggested that Derek and Stiles start things off on a trial basis – with Stiles guiding Derek on basic tasks like time management and forming good study habits.

For his part, Stiles hadn’t so much disagreed as he had not _not_ agreed, which had led him to this terrible moment – their first study session.

Or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. Instead, Stiles had spent the past thirteen minutes watching Derek perform push ups.

Stiles’s focus was pulled back down to his mobile phone, the unique vibration pattern telling him that Lydia had responded to his SOS text.

 

> From Lydia, 5:28PM: Pls tell me he’s shirtless!!!

Stiles rolled his eyes, already annoyed with himself for seeking help from the least helpful person in his life.

Yes. Derek Hale was _physically_ attractive, but _emotionally_ he was still a bear trapped in a human being’s body. A trapped bear that voluntarily spent time with the Carver twins, all of whom happened to also _hate_ Stiles. So…

Stiles turned back toward Derek, just to confirm that the other teen was still working out.

The uncomfortable bubble that had formed in his stomach when Derek originally greeted him – indeed shirtless – returned, and Stiles wanted nothing from that.

It was obvious that Derek wanted no part in this either. This had clearly been some lame brain child from Talia, an idea that she probably formed after reading Stiles’s class GPA.

Greenberg had been right – _never_ include a GPA on a resume, no matter how good it is.

He took a sharp breath in before preparing to let the both of them off the hook.

"Look, Derek," Stiles said, releasing the breath and stretching his limbs to stand up, "Let’s just–"

"Can you put your phone away?" Derek asked, shifting all of his weight onto one hand, still pushing up from the ground.

"Excuse me?" Stiles asked, confusion replacing the confusing mix of guilt and shame for staring at the way Derek’s skin gleamed wet with sweat.

"I said," Derek said, quickly jumping to his feet and stepping closer to Stiles, hand already grabbing hold of Stiles’s mobile phone, "This is distracting me. Put it away. Preferably off."

Stiles pulled his mobile phone out from Derek’s grasp, stepping several steps back.

"I think _I’m_ distracting you," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes as he pushed his phone into his pants pocket, other hand reaching for his book bag resting on Derek’s computer desk, "Message received. I’ll leave, and you won’t have to worry about this again, all right?"

"What?" Derek asked, neck suddenly turning red as he stretched his arms across his torso.

"You obviously don’t want me here," Stiles said, shaking his head as he hiked his book bag over his shoulder, "And that’s cool. I get it, but you could have just told me so twenty minutes ago."

"No," Derek said, placing a firm hand on Stiles’s shoulder, "You’re not being paid to leave."

"I’m not being paid, period," Stiles said, pushing Derek’s hand off his shoulder, "Today was just supposed to be about seeing if this would work, and it won’t. If you’re worried about what your mom will think, I’ll happily explain to her its me, okay?"

The usual confusion Stiles felt in the presence of most of the Hales set in as he watched Derek’s face sour.

Rick had a similar expression, which usually meant the young boy’s mind was hard at work behind those familial dark eyebrows.

"But you need this job," Derek finally said, face still twisted into the sour expression, though his mouth was turning down quickly, resembling Rick’s famous pout lips.

While Derek’s expression may have been slightly humorous, his words set Stiles’s spine on fire.

Once again, Stiles felt like a fool at the hands of the Hale family. Not only had he pushed for this internship – now a _tutorship_ – with his father, but his father's concerns were being proven right. Reaching out to the Hales was a mistake, and much like he treated the rest of their classmates, Derek would never treat Stiles with any kind of respect.

"Fuck you, too, Derek Hale," Stiles said, pushing passed the other teen and toward the bedroom door.

At least he had a long bike ride home to figure out what the fuck he was going to tell his father. Preferably in a way that admitted as little as possible.


	10. Bristle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You, uh…” his father said, clearing his throat slightly, “You care about Derek’s–“
> 
> “Oh, God, no,” Stiles said, interrupting his father quickly, “No. Just… No!”

Stiles wasn’t sure whether it was the sensation of the mattress beneath him compressing or the rumble of the thunder rolling above Beacon Hills that woke him first.

“Move over,” his father said, already forcing Stiles away from the center of the full sized bed with his impending frame. Somewhat groggily, Stiles rubbed nervously at the back of his neck as he began to sit up, releasing a slight yawn and taking in the dark shadows spread throughout his room.

The faint patter of thick rain drops crashing against the room’s windows began to fill the room, a rhythm that soothed the hodgepodge of emotions quickly flooding Stiles’s stomach. Hearing more than seeing his father turn on the bedside lamp, Stiles focused on the crumpled white bag his father had placed between them.

“Well,” his father said, an excited hand already digging into the bag, the thick smell of grease following shortly behind the movement, “You’re not concussed, so that’s good. On the other hand, I had plans to eat your double cheeseburger if you were, so I guess now I only get one.”

“Funny,” Stiles said, offering a playful roll of his eyes, reaching into the grease stained bag for his own burger, “Thank you for the burger.”

“Well, it’s not exactly free,” his father said, releasing a slight sigh as he rested against the bed’s headboard, “You ready to talk?”

“Talk about what?” Stiles asked, avoiding eye contact as he steeled his stomach.

Stiles knew very well what his father wanted to discuss, but Stiles wasn’t quite ready to talk about it himself.

His altercation with Derek Hale had plagued him for the better part of the week since he had angrily fled the Hale house.

And that was just the problem – he didn’t understand why he was so angry.

Sure, Derek had said some fairly harmful words, but Derek also meant very little to Stiles’s life. So, why had Stiles let Derek’s opinion of him bother him so much?

Receiving no response, Stiles looked back up toward his father’s waiting gaze.

“You were right,” Stiles said, releasing a sigh as he slumped his shoulders in defeat, “Getting involved with the Hales was a bad idea after all.”

“Stiles, if Talia–“ his father said, setting his burger down as his shoulders became tense.

“It wasn’t Talia,” Stiles said, shaking his head, “Not really.”

“Oh,” his father said, body losing some of its earlier rigidity, “Derek?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, but then shook his head quickly, “No. I don’t know.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be seeing much of Derek,” his father said before biting in his burger again.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, nodding his head, “I thought that, too. Just like I thought this internship could mean a lot to my future, but then I found out Talia just wanted a tutor for Derek. And as I mentioned earlier, Derek hates me. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“Okay,” his father said, nodding as he listened, “The feeling’s mutual, though right? So you agreed anyways?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, nodding as he swallowed down his burger bite, “I guess I thought I might spend a few days with Derek and then prove to Talia that I could do more.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t work out so well,” his father said, setting his own burger to the side, gaze becoming more serious.

“That’s an understatement,” Stiles said, snorting, “I don’t think it could have gone worse. He ignored me the whole time I was there, and then he started some stupid argument to get me to leave.”

“And that’s what’s kept you up here for a week?” his father asked, a disbelieving brow arching.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders.

“He was…” Stiles said, searching for the right words, “Kind of brutal. Let’s just say I’ve never seen Derek excel at an objective so well before. Well, other than physical exercise.”

“Mhmm,” his father said, gaze growing with intensity, “I don’t suppose you want to discuss exactly what he said.”

“Not really,” Stiles said, shaking his head, “I’m not even sure it’s what he said that’s got me so bothered. I mean, it pissed me off, but I think that’s what’s got me so upset – that it did piss me off.”

“You, uh…” his father said, clearing his throat slightly, “You care about Derek’s–“

“Oh, God, no,” Stiles said, interrupting his father quickly, “No. Just… No!”

“Okay,” his father said, hands raising in defense, “Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m not really sure,” Stiles said, shaking his head, “Something about it just has me down.”

Stiles looked up as his father lifted himself up from the bed, angling for the photo-clad bulletin board above his desk.

“You don’t have to let them go to be happy, Stiles,” his father said, staring at the photos pinned to the board, “But you might consider letting a few more people in other than just Lydia. My guess is that’s at least part of what’s upset you.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, pushing his eyes open to resist the tears already blurring his eyes, turning toward the windows framed by the storm raging outside, “Yeah.”

***

Derek Hale took a sharp breath in at flash of red and blue lights signaling behind him, shortly followed by the loud whoop of the police car – no doubt the Sheriff ready to ruin his life. Again.

His mind raced as he pulled the car over to the side of the road.

“Fuck,” Derek said, turning quickly to Laura sitting in the passenger seat, “You have to switch with me.”

“What?” Lara asked, face growing with outrage as Derek swiftly pushed himself into her space, the two crammed tightly into the already small space.

"Move!" Derek yelled, already pushing Laura toward the driver's seat, "Don't fuck this up for me."

"Jesus," Laura said, straightening herself into the driver's seat, "Pretty sure you lifted the car a foot off the ground speeding across the seat like that, Der. Real smooth, I'm sure Sheriff Stilinski didn't see a god damn thing, you moron. You do realize there's a big fucking glass window in the back, right?"

"Just shut up," Derek said, quickly pulling the passenger seat belt strap across his chest, "And play it cool."

Laura's narrowed gaze turned upward at the sound of knocking against the driver's side window, and a warm smile spread across her face as she lowered the glass.

"Laura," Sheriff Stiliniski said, nodding, "Surprised to see you sitting in the driver's seat. I could have sworn I saw Derek speed through that stop sign on Maple."

"Oh!" Laura offered, false laughter suddenly filling the car, "I think I'm offended by that, Sheriff Stilinski. I guess I can't really blame you though, there's no mistaking the Hale family resemblance. So long as Jordan knows which one I am, I'm happy I guess."

"Right," Sheriff Stilinski said, angling his gaze toward Derek, "We could discuss a ticket for the stop sign back there, or Derek could join me outside the car for a different conversation involving no tickets. For the time being."

"She'll take the ticket" Derek said, stomach pooling with anxiety at the thought of what Stiles might have told the Sheriff about their last encounter, "We're kind of in a hurry–"

"Der would love to talk," Laura said, interrupting, head bopping like an annoying bobble head accompanied by the sound of the vehicle door's unlocking, "We can't get him to shut up at the dinner table these days, too busy talking about how much he enjoys cleaning up the outdoors on the weekends. I'm sure Derek would love to discuss the, uh... Clean up schedule?"

Derek hated Laura. _Hated_ her.

"Something like that," Sheriff Stilinski said, nodding as he stood back waiting for Derek to step out of the car.

The Sheriff nodded toward the back of the car, moving closer to the Sheriff's vehicle.

Derek rolled his eyes, if the Sheriff thought this would provide him and Derek some sense of privacy, the man was thick in the head. Laura was no doubt preparing to report every word back to Peter via mobile text for later torture. Was Stiles adopted?

Derek sank into his jacket, hoping the movement would make his bristling appear more like a reaction to the winter's cold wind.

"Be cool," Derek whispered to himself, "Be cool."

Derek glared back at the vehicle at the sound of Laura snorting, but his gaze was brought back to the Sheriff at the sound of a clearing throat.

"Derek," Sheriff Stilinski said, nodding slightly, "It's my understanding that Stiles didn't enjoy his last visit to the Hale property. In fact he disliked it so much, he's spent the last two weeks holed up in his room avoiding me. I've had to explain that Stiles is too ill to see Lydia Martin four times now. Do you know how persistence that young woman is, Derek?"

Derek glared down at his sneakers, not ready to admit a mistake on his part or offer a snarky response to Stiles's father. He tried to will the road to collapse into a sink hole beneath them, while Laura practically vibrated from snickering. The sound of her fingers tapping across the glass of her mobile raised Derek's aggravation further.

"It took me about two weeks to get it out of him that the internship he had applied for was more of a tutorship for you," the Sheriff said, voice rising slightly, "And I've been thinking – perhaps regrettably – that Stiles entering a friendship with someone other than just Lydia might be good for him."

Derek snapped his head up, not quite sure he had heard the Sheriff correctly.

"Stiles is a great student, and would likely make a wonderful tutor," the Sheriff continued, "But he also makes a better friend. And when I saw _Laura_  speed her way down Maple street, I thought it might be an ample opportunity to suggest that her brother apologize to Stiles in order to continue your tutoring. And possible friendship."

Derek bit his lower lip as he mentally chewed over the information given to him.

"Because if you did," the Sheriff continued, "I could maybe convince Stiles to tutor you at our house, since he's not so keen on revisiting whatever bad memories are at yours. Which would also keep him far away from Peter. Another bonus."

"I said something stupid, I think," Derek said, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck, an aggravating sense of vulnerability overcoming him.

The Sheriff nodded, clearly wanting Derek to continue.

"I just," Derek said, shaking his head, the familiar ball of confusion twisting within his stomach, "He drives me crazy sometimes – like, I know I'm not the best with words or whatever, but he just talks so fast, and he _means_ everything he says. I was just trying to get a word in, and..."

"Okay," the Sheriff said, nodding, face lifting up into some semblance of understanding, "Stiles is very... Determined. But I've found that usually it's better to listen to Stiles first rather than push forward with my own agenda. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, sir," Derek said, nodding quickly – though it sounded easier said than done.

And maybe it would have helped if Derek had thought through his approach more thoroughly – Stiles has always been pretty clear to Ethan that sex wasn't Stiles's objective. Derek probably shouldn't have started out shirtless.

Or accused Stiles of needing money.

"Please help me," Derek said, shaking his head, "I just want to..."

"Some things are better achieved by walking, Derek," the Sheriff said, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder, "Stiles is not really one to run – at least not when it's someone else's idea. Understand?"

"Yeah," Derek said, nodding quickly, "I think I do."

"Good," Sheriff Stilinski said, stepping back, "Please tell _Laura_ to be more cautious of stop signs. I don't expect I'll be confusing her for you anymore."

Derek nodded as he stepped back toward Laura's own vehicle, a new sense of hope building in his chest. If the Sheriff was on Derek's side, there was no way Stiles could continue to ignore him.

"Yes, sir," Laura said, mimicking Derek's voice as he stepped into the passenger seat, "Thank you, sir. I want to undress your son, sir – you forgot to ask his permission for marriage, Derek."

"Be humble, Laura," Derek said, glaring back at his sister, "You're just upset because you didn't get to ask about Jordan. How's that relationship going by the way? Seen an awful lot of you around the house this month, thought you were planning on spending all this free time with your boyfriend."

"Fucker," Laura said, turning her gaze forward as she put the vehicle into drive, "This is why Stiles hates you."


End file.
